


Tired

by Proxima_Centauri



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-18 13:09:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/561417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proxima_Centauri/pseuds/Proxima_Centauri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"After so much searching, trying to decipher the emotions that I never seem to feel, don't allow myself to feel, that’s all I can come up with. It’s hard to believe it struck me so suddenly."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tired

Tired.

After so much searching, trying to decipher the emotions that I never seem to feel, don't allow myself to feel, that's all I can come up with. It's hard to believe it struck me so suddenly.

I'm tired.

I was shuffling through the bathroom, noticing that one of the light bulbs had gone out yet again and that Watari would have to replace it, when I finally caught what seemed like my true reflection for the first time. I padded a bit closer to the sink, observing closer that object which had escaped my observation for so long; my own face.

The whites of my eyes were tinged pink, definitely a sign of physical exhaustion. More than that, though, I observed how even in analyzing, my favorite pastime, my face remained blank. Despite the numerous amounts of sugar I ate, my face was slightly gaunt and had an almost eerie pale glow to it. Ever-deepening circles were showing under these eyes, though I recognized with mild interest that this was nothing makeup wouldn't cover; at any rate, I wouldn't have to worry much, I rarely cared and never went outdoors besides to play tennis. Watari had convinced me to.

Watari. The one reason I actually knew what my reflection looked like. He was my savior in this dark world; he was walking around that dingy school that wasn't even fit for his presence looking for what he called "spectacular talent". Amongst these dysfunctional children, I nearly laughed on the spot as the others began to chatter excitedly about the visitor who would maybe, hopefully, realize one of us didn't belong there.

I was apathetic. Why would this man who knows nothing of us attempt to rescue us from this 'horrific situation' and take us to an institution for gifted children? Gifted in another way, different from everyone else in the normal gifted school we were already in.

He insisted upon private interviews with select students that he'd, without our knowledge, previously selected. I was glad to be out of that elementary math lesson, until I realized what exactly was happening.

"No, no, no." I muttered quietly to myself for the first five minutes, sitting in that small room waiting for the old man who would inevitably change my life to enter. My mind hadn't had this much to process in months. The sheer amount of it was boggling. Every possible outcome to this situation was racing through my head, and I hadn't even met the man yet. Probabilities spewing out of my mouth between protests.

The lock clicked, and I shut up immediately as the man walked in and introduced himself as Quillsh Wammy, the founder of several orphanages worldwide. I merely stared at him, still running probabilities in my head. He sat down, and instantly asked me a calculus question. My mind paused momentarily before responding with the correct answer. He gave me a small smile before continuing on to another subject, always returning to mathematics.

"Lawliet. Would you be interested in coming to my orphanage instead? You'll be able to do nearly anything you would like, as long as it's related to the development of knowledge either on your part or that of humanity."

I paused. "I am 97.6% sure that I would like to see this orphanage for myself."

He'd smiled like that was all he could ever ask for, and I found the man I now considered to be my father.

I'm returning to the present, twelve years from that point in time. Sighing again, I looked through the longer-than-usual hair I was sure Watari would have me cut sooner or later to observe my eyes again. Definitely bloodshot, and I would need to start taking the candy-flavored vitamins again.

It never mattered if I showed emotion. L needs to protect humanity from the evil it brings upon itself, rained down by men like Beyond Birthday and Kira. No matter what plots they reveal.

Even if I was growing so very tired.


End file.
